


ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

by PhakeFysics



Series: Fallen Hero - Abyss/Anton [1]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Other, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 09:24:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20255848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhakeFysics/pseuds/PhakeFysics
Summary: The Beginning of my Fallen Hero series with my Sidestep, Anton.





	ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

“Anton?”

The question made the owner of the name look up from his coffee - black with one sugar - offering an idle hum. Ortega pinned Anton with a concerned look, ducking his head as if to get a better view of Anton’s downcast eyes. 

“You look lost in thought,” he grinned that trademark grin, sending a ripple of stifled anxiety down Anton’s spine. Tapping his fingers against the coffee cup, Anton only looked around the diner, wondering why oh why had he let the other man convince him to hang out, letting him bribe him with coffee. A weakness Ortega knew how to exploit, and did so often, much to Anton’s mounting frustrations.

_Gottverdammtes Arschloch…_

Anton mentally cursed, falling back into his german when emotions flooded him, the lid on the bottle weakening. 

Instead, he offered Ortega his polite, but warm smile, “I was. Just… How’ve you been?” his accent indiscernible, no hint of german anywhere to be found. Perfectly normal and indistinguishable from any other sap from Los Diablos. He wasn’t even sure Ortega knew. Not that Anton ever gave that up. 

Ortega’s gaze softened a touch when he received Anton’s smile, sitting up again and slowly leaning back against the seat of the booth. “I’ve been concerned about you, like always. Glad to see you’re holding up. You don’t look… dead on your feet,” he offers with a teasing grin.

Anton mimics a perfectly amused snort, lifting the cup to his lips and allowing the only good thing on this Bitch-of-an-Earth fill his senses. “I feel fine, thanks for your concern,” he smiled towards the older man, his charade practiced and careful. Anton used Ortega’s concern to his advantage, pretending to care, pretending that he didn’t hold a disgusted and bitter resentment for the man across from him. 

Ortega’s grin formed into more of a smile now, “Great to hear. It’s nice… catching up like this. Taking a break and all,” he nods.

Anton mimes a furrow of his eyebrows, forming his expression into concern, reaching out and touching Ortega’s forearm, just like any friend. “Hey… you aren’t running yourself ragged are you? It’s Abyss, isn’t it?”

Ortega sighed softly, head hanging some in defeat at being called out by the other, watching Anton’s golden eyes reflect concern and tenderness. “I just… after the Gala, after the attacks against High ranking officials... The anarchy must be stopped,” he pressed, his other hand moving to rest on top of Anton’s, thumb rubbing the top in delicate circles.  
Anton’s expression twitched and he forced his smile wider, forcing himself to stay there, with his hand trapped. 

_I want to kill him…_

“Well… how about,” Anton licked his lips, acting as if his mouth had gone dry, his gaze flicking away briefly before looking back to Ortega, “We just… you know, hang out and get some rest?” Anton felt the exhaustion of entertaining the other weigh heavily on his shoulders, forcing them to slump under the weight. But he had to pretend he and Ortega were past Heartbreak. That they could move on and be content again. It never would be, but Ortega didn’t know that.

He didn’t know that in truth; Abyss stared at him from across the table, formulating all the fun ways to destroy Los Diablos, piece by terrible piece. The man he once loved - cracked and broken, the rage bubbling up to a point of sheer fury to be unleashed upon the city, upon the Rangers. 

“Hang out?” Ortega smirked, drawing closer, moving to hold Anton’s hand now, causing the other man to playfully roll his eyes, “Ricardo, you know what I meant. We could go catch a movie…” Anton shrugged, his tone casual yet careful at the same time.

Ortega’s grin widened some, “And dinner too?” Pulling a soft, exasperated sigh from Anton.

“If you behave,” came the retort, a smirk tacked on afterwards. 

“I make no promises,” Ortega chuckled with mirth, earning another eye roll and sigh. 

Anton gently pulled his hand back to cup his coffee and sip at its contents, “No promises means your chances are decreasing,” Anton slid the banter right back across the table, looking at Ortega behind his cup, golden eyes shimmering with mischief.

Heaving a theatrical sigh, Ortega placed a hand to his chest, “I promise to be the perfect and most chivalrous gentleman for you, dearest Anton,” he stated in dramatic fashion.

_Gullible moron…_

Anton only grinned from behind his coffee cup, “I’ll hold you to it,” he stated, mocking a stern look before melting back into the facade of a smile he put up for Ortega. “And… look… I know I said I’m out of the game - which I am,” he paused, shooting Ortega a strong look, “But I’d be willing to help… be an advisor, of sorts, to help you with this Abyss stuff. If you want,” he offered.

A perfect way to get an idea of what Ortega knows, and get in close to thwart him, ignorant rube.  
Hook, line, and sinker. 

The smile Anton received said it all. Ortega’s innocent idea that Anton was still there, letting him linger in the man’s life was Anton extending an Olive Branch.

_Let him keep thinking that._

Anton smiled at Ortega, weaseling himself into the man’s heart, hoping to plant a bomb there to detonate in future. 

They would pay. 

Every. 

Last. 

One.


End file.
